


Bittersweet Dreams

by Ariella1941



Series: In The Shadow of Empires [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariella1941/pseuds/Ariella1941
Summary: Locked in carbonite and dying of poison, Aryelle must confront memories, nightmares, and the not so late Immortal Emperor Valkorion who has plans of his own for her.





	

_Aryelle Thrace_

“I have always loved the stars.”

Great. Here I was, stuck in carbonite…or at least I thought I was. I only vaguely remember being tossed into the chamber. But I’m pretty sure I’m not awake, and that the man standing with me was the one I had just run a lightsaber through.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” I said to Valkorion, the late Immortal Emperor of Zakuul. I looked around at the stars, and the tableau of ships in combat. Republic, Imperial, and Zakuulan ships as frozen as I was, bolts of lasers hanging motionless against the black. And anyone with eyes could see the battle was weighted in Zakuul’s favor.  “You can’t fool me a second time, Vitiate, or Valkorion, or whatever you call yourself now.”

“I do not seek do deceive you, Aryelle,” he said in that urbane baritone, so different than Vitiate’s cold hunger. “You deserve truth, especially now. I once told you that you harnessed great power, but lacked the purity of will to focus it. That has begun to change. You have done a rare thing: earned my respect.  I followed you here so that we may speak undisturbed.”

He sounded pleased, which frightened me.

“You’re not the same lunatic I fought on Dromund Kaas and Ziost,” I told him.

“I am, and am not,” Valkorion said, amused by the observation. “Change overtakes us all.”

He wasn’t lying.

* * *

 

The world flashed and I stood looking at _Shrike_ , my _home_ for almost five years. She was as proud as ever, even with her crew under assault. I suppose this was some sort of object lesson or warning.

“Without a center to hold… without _us_ , the galaxy will spiral into chaos,” Valkorion told me, then the pain hit. Visions of battles, of starships exploding against the black. More and more, each one brought pain.

I stumbled forward, driven to my knees by agony among the bodies of my crew; my friends.

“What’s happening?”

“The carbon freezing process was imperfect,” Valkorion said conversationally, as if we were discussing the weather. “You are dying as we speak. You may yet survive, but you must _fight_.”

* * *

 

So I fought, and when I was done I stared at the final body that lay at my feet, feeling a nausea that had nothing to do with the carbonite poisoning.

I had killed Satele Shan.

“This can’t be real,” I said, not bothering to hide the horror in my voice. “The Grand Master is the heart of the Jedi. I would never strike her down.”

“You are the greater, yet you continue to bind yourself to archaic codes and outdated Orders,” Valkorion told me. “She kept things from you, set you on a path, but held you back from your full potential out of fear.”

I didn’t want to listen, but the bitterness I’d begun to feel, the sense that I was simply a pawn in a game, a tool to be used gnawed at me.

“You begin to understand.”

“What power?” I yelled at him. Revan had made a similar comment years ago. That I had a gift I would someday come to understand. Had Master Satele kept this from me?

“Better to ask ‘why’ it was kept from you,” Valkorion commented, “Only one other has had such a gift, and the Order tried to murder her for it.”

“If you know what it is, tell me!” I yelled again, “Dammit all. TELL ME!”

But Valkorion was silent.

* * *

 

We stood back in Valkorion’s throne room, yet now it belonged to his son. Arcann slouched in the gaudy oversized chair, as a human dressed in Senatorial robes and a true blood Sith knelt before him.

“The Eternal Throne,” Valkorion said with some pride, “the new center of the galaxy.”

“That’s impossible, I haven’t been gone that long.”

The former Emperor smiled, “Longer than you think. Zakuul surpassed my greatest expectations. The most powerful fleet in history, a legion of guardians who understand the Force is more than Light and Dark.” He said to me. “But my children abuse their… inheritance.”

“Your wife isn’t around to keep them in line?” I lashed out, angry and confused. I felt the Force crackle down my skin, and tried to calm myself.

“I made a terrible mistake,” Valkorion told me. “I let her go.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not at all. Abandoning my past let me experience pleasures I didn’t allow myself before. I fell in love.”

The word triggered an image that stood opposite Valkorion’s daughter. He was translucent, but recognizable:

Theron Shan.

“Revan’s heir?” The late Emperor said with amusement. “I remember his mind from Ziost. While he does not wield the Force, he is much like his ancestor. More than he would wish, I think.”

I stepped between Theron’s image and the Emperor, focusing on building a wall between them.

“I might not be able to force you from my mind, but you can’t have this part of me,” I said through gritted teeth, “I won’t let you!” Then I realized Vaylin turned to look at me, as if she’d heard. She drew her lightsaber and stared right at me. “She sees me?”

“Vaylin was always my favorite,” Valkorion observed even as Arcann asked his sister what was wrong.

I waited for her to answer, but instead she narrowed her eyes, and said nothing.

“She doesn’t trust Arcann.”

I couldn’t read Valkorion, but I almost swore he was hurt, maybe?

“Vaylin trusts no one.”

I felt another burning pain, and looked down to see the impossible: Vaylin’s blade run through my abdomen.

“I’m dying,” I gasped.

“No,” Valkorion told me, “we are being _reborn_.”

End  


End file.
